


Only Natural

by louisovermyknee



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Blow Jobs, Corporal Punishment, Corset, Corsetry, Kidnapped Louis, Kidnapping, Latex, M/M, Mummification, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, POV Third Person, Punishment, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rubber, Whipping, larry stylinson - Freeform, tightlacing, vacbed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-07-18 17:11:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7323724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisovermyknee/pseuds/louisovermyknee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It might have been the latex. It could have been the leather, the bondage, the corset—Either way, the captor took his prisoner’s breath away.<br/>OR<br/>Louis is kidnapped by Harry and is forced to become a sex slave.</p><p>*** WARNING: The following fanfic can only be described as one of the most scandalous stories I have ever written. There is a variety of mature sexual content, rape being included. I would like to emphasize the fact that I advise against both and all abusive subjects that this fanfic may present. So please, read at your own risk. I apologize in advance. ***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

The man lying in the full sized bed woke up to his mouth being stuffed by what tasted like old dishrags. He was not able to gather his senses until after the duct tape was clamped over his mouth, holding the gag in place. The fair-haired male began to thrash around, trying to get away from his attacker. However, his swings were halted by the grips of large hands which had managed to force him to topple onto his side, and then flip on his stomach.

            Within an instant, the wrists of the man trying to fight back were bound with ropes which were quickly knotted behind his back. The lad on the bed struggled like a fish. At this point, the comforter had flung away from them and the sheets were a jumbled mess underneath them. While his ankles were being tied up, the man tried to turn back in order to catch a glance at his attacker.

            His captor had a wide shoulder frame with dark hair that hung down his back. Most of his appearance was disguised by what only can be considered as a burglar’s attire. Momentarily, he caught a glimpse of the collection of ropes at his side before retreating back to his previous position. He coughed against the rag in his mouth, only having a protesting grunt come out at the result.

            “Oh, hush up;” the captor scoffed, only making the struggling man want to resist even more.

It wasn’t until the man was done binding his knees together when he properly saw the face of the intruder. His height was expediential. His arms were bulky enough to resemble his strength. The man stopped fighting in order to catch his breath. As he regained what was left of his strength, he watched his unexpected guest shuffle through his wallet, which was left on his bedside table. Eventually, he found a driver’s license.

“Louis William Tomlinson,” a deep voice resounded from behind a dark ski mask.

He stood there for a moment, observing his masterpiece before finally declaring, “You’re skinny enough. I think you’ll do just fine.”

            The man that carried the name decided not to respond to the roll call. Instead, his eyebrows arched and his started to wiggle against the restraints once more.

            “Still resistant,” the intruder continued with a bellow; “I think I’ll take you home.”

            Louis did not know what he meant. He was certain that he did not want to find out.  As he continued to find any means of escape, his hope immediately split in half as his body felt a tight fabric being wrapped around himself. The taller man had grabbed the sheets from under Louis and used it to make a bedding cocoon for his prisoner. Once he had succeeded, he worked with the rest of his rope to eradicate his captive once and for all.

            Louis’ muscles ran out of energy. His neck stretched back since his head flew off the edge of the bed. Screaming became his only form of option. He laid there with his misery as he felt his legs being confined under the sheets. Then his thighs. Then his torso. Until finally his chest. The burglar tied off his prisoner and used his strength to yank Louis’ body upward. Within a moment, he flung the mummified lad over his shoulder and took his time walking through the flat.

            He had parked his van rather close to the door, almost as if to give off the impression that the owner was moving some heavy furniture to the other side of town. Most of the neighborhood had gone away for the day, living their normal lives at school or at work. Louis, on the other hand, felt like a sushi roll being packaged off to who-knows-where to be eaten-who-knows-when. He was also regretting the fact that he worked the evening shifts as he was hauled into the back of the vehicle.

            “Enjoy the ride, sweetheart;” the man quickly whispered as he lowered him down; “Won’t be long now.”

            Louis’ faith perished completely when he heard the doors slam shut, the engine roar, and van driving quickly away.


	2. Two

The ride in the back of the van was not an enjoyable one for the bundled-up prisoner. Louis had tried with all his might to break free from the rope and sheets, only to have most of his strength and energy lost from the efforts. The van came upon an abrupt stop after making a turn into a dimly lit space. A loud mechanical sound rasped outside the van, and then the doors opened to reveal whom was both the driver and the kidnapper. The tall invader hopped into the back of the van to join the captive. In his hand, he held a syringe. Once he reached the bound victim, he fumbled with the sheets around his neck to do his bidding.

            “No!” Louis grumbled under the gag, attempting wiggle away; “Mmph!”

            The needle shot right where the captor anticipated despite Louis’ protest.

            “Shhh, shhh. Hush now. Let it take you.”

            Almost immediately, the dosage took its toll on the receiver. Louis’ vision and subconscious began to alter, leaving him with a sense of dreariness. As Louis began to quiet down, the kidnapper slipped the syringe to the side. Afterwards, he grasped at the prisoner’s ankles and gave a hard yank. While Louis was being manhandled out of the van, his senses couldn’t have been any more coherent. He was quiet, sleepy, and his anxiety was seeping away in the unhealthiest way.  Sedation soon took into effect and Louis was unable to resist the outcome the sedative had on him.

            He woke up horizontally. The sheets had been removed and the ropes were unknotted. They were nowhere to be seen, but Louis was more concerned with the way his wrists were embraced by padded cuffs. His arms were stretched above his head and he observed that the chains led up to the ceiling by some kind of rigging system. Louis’ first instinct upon awakening was to stay quiet. He would have shouted for help, but he resisted the urge for multiple reasons. One of them being the fact that his mouth was dry from the rags. As his senses returned, he remembered the man in the ski mask. Although there wasn’t much he could do to help himself, he hoped that the man would not return for some time. Knowing his luck, this was not the case mainly because his captor was also a quiet persona.

            “Afternoon,” the kidnapper announced his presence.

            Louis’ insides shriveled in embarrassment and fear. He heard heavy boots trudging from afar and then to his side. The man towered over Louis as he knelt beside his naked body. The prisoner finally got to take a look at the man who snatched him from his bed. His forehead was covered with acne. Brown hair framed his face as he looked down. Louis could smell a hint of alcohol on his breath when he spoke.

            “Sleep well?”

            Louis decided not to answer.

            “Not a talker, huh?”

The man stood up, heading towards a crank that hung against the wall. As he worked with the mechanism, Louis felt an increasing tension upon his arms. The chains were being cranked upwards, which caused Louis’ arms to rise. He sat up as steady as he could, and tried his best to stand up with ease. Within time, the captor stopped cranking. By that moment, Louis was standing on the balls of his feet.

“Mr. Louis Tomlinson. Good.” The man worked with the remainder of the chains.

Louis finally had a chance to properly look around. What surrounded him was not a pretty sight. A variety of objects were strewn about, most of them relating towards sexual contexts. The room looked like a storage unit for a sadist’s dream come true. It was a dungeon for the twisted and the naughty. As for the owner, the captured lad caught sight of a newspaper which held valuable information. On a small table not too far away from where he hung, Louis read the article which listed a variety of criminals that were on the run. One of them went by the name of

“Harry Styles.”

Louis waited for a response.

            There was none.

            Instead, the man disappeared for a while, rummaging through a closet where Louis could not see. When he returned, Louis felt something wrapping around his waist. The man that went by the name of Harry had selected a heavy duty garment for his prisoner to wear. For a moment, Louis was too curious to fight back. He glanced down as his kidnapper clasped the busk of the corset. For the most part, Louis was confused. Out of all the things that Louis could have imagined happening to him, being strapped into a corset was not on the list. Harry footed around Louis’ hanging body and began working on the laces.

            _Skinny enough … that’s why-_

“I suppose you should be aware of a few things before you get settled in,” Harry instructed, tugging on the strings until the corset fitted snuggling around Louis’ waist.

“To you, my name is Sir, and you should address me as such.”

He started on the top first, tugging on the laces so that the fabric would tighten around his chest.

“Do you understand me?”

Louis did not respond.

“Louis?”

Nothing. Harry looped the laces around the palms of his hands before producing a firm tug on the laces. Louis was forced back a few inches. He managed to keep his balance, even though his toes were starting to feel the stress of his body weight. As for his torso, Louis could feel the corset clasping around him tighter. He was surviving, although he did not know how long he could last.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” Harry started on the bottom laces then. Pulling up the slacks straight up from the hips before continuing his speech.

“You may never leave this place,” he stated with a stern statement; “If you ever so much as try to escape, severe punishment is in order. Understood?”

Louis was speechless.

“Understood?!” Harry raised his voice.

It seemed to Louis that “Yes, Sir,” was his only option. He did not agree to it. Whatever this man wanted, Louis was not willing to give it to him that easily. It would be against his nature to consent after being hauled away from his home, sedated, and hung up for another man’s satisfaction. Of course, Louis knew that refusing would only result in unnecessary trouble. His captor had just warned him, after all. Yet, Louis did not want to go with the flow. Evidently, he wanted to say nothing at all. So he did.

“Fine,” Harry whispered, crossing the laces and pulling at the sides.

It was at this point that Louis started to feel the wrath of the steel bones encased in the leather. It rubbed against his ribs and put pressure on his sides. His heart gradually began to race. More importantly, he couldn’t believe that his manly bits were slowly starting to rise. He inhaled in the hopes of making the irritation less severe. Sadly, he was mistaken. Another yank pulled the corset tighter around him, this time completely taking his breath away.

Harry tied the strings off before reprimanding his prisoner; “If you don’t want to follow along, let me show you the consequences.”

            He strode across the room to a wardrobe which held a variety of weapons. Whips and canes of many textures and sizes filled the space. With brief consideration, he finally selected a cane. It was slim, yet powerful. He returned to the space behind his newly-captured slave. As any dominant would have done, he reached his hand back before coming in for a swing. The cane came in contact with Louis’ behind and he yelped. A red mark revealed where the impact had hit. Louis’ head lowered. Harry prepared for another swing. Then another, and another. It wasn’t long before Louis started to regret his decision. Harry could hear his raspy voice trying to diminish his painful winces. The dominant couldn’t help but address it.

“Mm-hmm,” Harry sassed; “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

The cane slashed Louis’ backside again. Louis gasped out an inaudible answer.

“You just be thankful for that corset, young man. It’s protecting your back.”

He distributed a few more slashes of the cane to Louis’ behind before continuing on.

“I don’t think you fully understand, Mr. Tomlinson.”

_SLASH_

“Your body is mine. Down here, you belong to no one but me.”

_SLASH_

“You do as I say. You will obey, or else.”

_SLASH_

            “Okay,” Louis winced out the words and immediately was greeted with another swat of the cane.

            “Uh-bah-bah. That’s not my name.”

Even though he knew that was not the answer Harry wanted to hear, it was Louis’ own form of way of promising to behave. Taking as deep of a sigh as the corset would allow, Louis responded with what was safest to say.

“Yes, Sir.”

            The room became quiet for a while. Louis continued to balance on his tiptoes while his captor observed his work from the punishment. Louis felt a chill as Harry’s fingers ran along the marks on his buttocks, which was red and warm. The kidnapper made his way past Louis and back to the wardrobe to place the tool back where it belonged. After shutting the doors, he retreated back to the hanging man. His eyes beamed at his morning catch. His hands trailed along the sides of the corset, taking in the sight of Louis’ newly formed waist. Harry was impressed with himself, even grinning at the erection he had sprung upon his servant.

            Louis, on the other hand, was not grateful for the position he was in. He took a step back, trying to bring space between him and the other, but Harry’s broad hands sent him forward. Not to mention the chains that were causing him to lose blood circulation in his arms.

With arched eyebrows, Harry declared to his prisoner, “I’ll attend to you further when I’m ready.”

Harry let go of the man’s sides and began making his way towards the door, which was also out of Louis’ peripheral vision. At this, Louis became frightened. Unaware of what was to happen to him, all he could do was wait for Harry to say anything more. Which, of course, he did.

“Do yourself a favor and don’t make too many sounds, if you know what’s good for you.”

            Louis’ isolation officially began when he caught the sound of door hinges creaking. Next, the sound of a heavy door slamming shut. Then, finally, the churning of a lock.


	3. Three

            “Knock knock! It’s dinner time.”

            Louis was half awake when Harry returned. He grumbled a bit, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The chains that held his arms in the air loosened as his captor rotated the cranking system. Louis’ feet, sore from standing on tiptoe, finally reached the ground. His blood circulated through his arms, making him feel relieved as Harry lowered him. However, he could not say the same for his backside, which was thrashed by the cane, nor his ribs, which were compressed by the corset.

The man who identified himself as ‘Sir’ fumbled with a small silver key as he freed his sex slave from the restraints. Upon release, Louis attempted to rub his wrists for comfort. He was stopped.

“No, no, no;” Harry instructed like a parent to a child.

Louis watched his own hands being grasped by the other man.

“Look at me,” Harry requested.

When Louis hesitated to look up, Harry demanded; “I said look at me. It’s dinner time.”

            Louis followed through and saw Harry turning his head to face the corner of the room. Next to the one and only exit from the room, a table stood with various silverware resting on the top of it. Harry lead Louis to a chair and instructed him to have a seat. The wooden surface frightened Louis. He was still recovering from the horrendous thrashing Harry had given him earlier. Of course, Louis obeyed, but that did not stop him from wincing at the painful contact his bottom received as he sat down. Let alone his posture suddenly represented what was similar to a proper young lady’s appearance.

            Harry took the seat across from Louis and announced, “Roasted pork, mashed potatoes, and corn. Eat up.”

Louis looked down at his plate, unsure of what to do. From a long day of confinement, he reminded himself that he hadn’t eaten a thing since the moment he had been stolen away. His stomach suddenly ached for a bite of the dinner that sat before him. Despite the urge, Louis couldn’t help but wonder if the corset would stop him from guzzling up what was on his plate. After slight consideration, he wanted to take precaution.

“Umm …” he mumbled, looking up at the criminal.

Harry had already helped himself to a forkful of the pork when Louis asked his simple question.

“Poison?”

            The man swallowed; “No. Eat.”

            Louis figured that second guessing wasn’t worth it. He grabbed a hold on his spoon, scooped up a bit of corn, and began eating. It was quiet for a while until Harry discovered that he had forgotten something.

            “Oh, the gravy. Be right back.”

            Louis watched him as he footed himself over to the door. He was not willing to spare a farewell of a glance to his prisoner, but he did not overlook the locks on the door. With every crank of the lock Louis heard, he shuddered.  Louis felt endangered. To think that the man that took him from his bed was the same man trying to serve him food in the middle of some kind of sex dungeon was beyond him. The walls that surrounded Louis, and what they contained, terrified him. It was only a matter of time until his master would return. Louis realized this, and sprouted up a plan.

            To suffer, or survive.

            It was his choice to decide.

            Louis stood up in hopes of gathering enough courage to stand in front of the entrance and attack at the right moment. His plan was simple. He would throw his plate at the man and dash away. It was a simple concept that required dexterity and speed. He was willing to try, but the longer he stood there, the more frenzied he became. He did not test the door, nor did he test his wits. He made up his mind.

            To suffer, or survive.

            The door rasped as it was pushed open from the other side. Harry entered the room with a gravy boat in hand and was startled by a serving of mashed potatoes to the face. As corn spewed down his clothing, Louis rushed around him. He made it through the doorframe to see a long flight of stairs. This prison was a basement, and Louis suddenly found himself being sucked back in again. Louis’ escape was interrupted by a tug at the laces that hung down his back. Harry caught his victim, wrapping his arm around Louis’ neck with a sort of chokehold.

            Louis struggled at his side, trying to pull away, but he could not match up to Harry’s strength. They stood above the river of gravy which had fallen along with the pottery during the attack. Louis’ eyes scanned his target and saw the result of mistake. Trails of a finger ran across Harry’s face. The criminal examined his food-covered hand, then turned to his prisoner, who had a face similar to a doe’s. Louis half-expected Harry to go ballistic, but he didn’t. Instead, he was composed, steady, yet somewhat angry. Harry brought his hand up to his mouth and began sucking his fingers dry. By this time, Louis had stopped fighting. He condemned himself to watching Harry clean himself off like a perverted son of a bitch until he was faced with a few maniacal words.

            “So,” Harry stated; “You thought of escaping. Hmm?”

            He shook his other arm, causing Louis to feel a tighter grip around his neck. When he did not respond, Harry followed up with a question that would bring absolute misery to his hostage.

“Louis, would you like to know what happens when you try to get the better of me?”

**.           .           .**

            The latex tightened around Louis’ body as the vacuum roared. Louis was left at his own devices between the sheets of darkness. Almost instantly, the vacbed concealed Louis, separating him from the outside world with only a nose hole to breathe through. His body revealed itself through the black and shiny sheets, all the way up from his feet to his head. While the vacbed muffled out his screams of horror, Harry watched him struggling with a sense of enjoyment. Harry considered himself to be a towering mastermind while Louis felt like a vacuum-packed prisoner. Louis even took pity on himself for attempting to get the best of his kidnapper.

            Despite the confinement and bodily sweat, Louis continued to squirm under the latex. Even after the vacuum switched off, he still tried to claw his way through the constricting material. No matter the wiggle, he was barely able to move more than an inch. When every attempt was met without escape, Louis felt miserable. If he thought the tight corset was a torture device before, the vacuum bed was a whole separate level level for what Harry had in mind for him.

“You shouldn’t have run from me,” Harry bellowed, kneeling beside the vacbed with a hitatchi magic wand in hand.

The latex was thick enough to prevent Louis from hearing a single word that Harry spoke, but it was also thin enough to let Louis sense the vibrations. Harry started along Louis’ inner thighs, circulating the area and making the victim wince. Louis grunted as the hitatchi worked its way up the beaten path, right towards the big black bulge. His manhood, of course, became excited over the rush of the vibrator. However, that did not demolish the fact that he never asked for this.

            Harry let the hitatchi nestle under Louis’ dick, right on his ball sack. Louis’ upper chest strained to pick itself up after regaining what little form of strength Louis had left in him. The latex and the corset did not help him in his case. He coughed, trying to catch a full breath that the nose hole could not suffice. This, too, was unsuccessful. In the end, he figured the risk of suffocation can only be overcome by keeping his head perfectly still. The rest of his body tickled while Harry continued to play with his encased latex doll. Within time, the trails of the vibrator sailed off of Louis’ body and Harry had a few words to say as he set the hitatchi magic wand to the side.

“I’ll have to lace you into your punishment corset after this.”

Grinning away like the devil he was, he stood up and trotted towards the door.

“But let’s not worry about that just yet. Right now, I’m going to get a nice little drink. Don’t move now!”

It was at this point when Louis began to cry. The wrath of the latex prison overtook him, and he was faced with the depressing truth. Harry was free. Louis was not. His kidnapper was the master. Louis was his slave. The other man was the one in control. Louis would remain a prisoner until further notice.

To suffer, or survive.

            It was his choice.

            And he failed.


	4. Four

            “Pet. Get up.”

            The one resting on his side in the corner of the room felt his insides tingle with shame. Once again, he had been caught crying in the early hours of the morning. Louis immediately tried to cough in order to hide his whimpers, but he was stopped when he felt his hair being yanked upwards.

            “I said get up!”

            Louis was pulled off of his mattress with a painful yelp. With his red face beaming, he found himself kneeling before his master.

            After instructing his slave to look up at him, Harry added; “How many times do I have to tell you? Will you ever obey? Or just accept the fact that no one is going to save you?”

            His pet was quiet. He was not refusing to reply, but he was more or less fighting the will to cry.

            “Do I have to gag you again?”

            He couldn’t help it. The tears streamed down and he wouldn’t dare wipe them away. It wouldn’t have mattered if Louis was gagged or not. The longer he failed to respond, the more heated Harry became. It wasn’t until a few more sobs filled the room when Harry decided the next plan of action.

“You know what, if a gag won’t do the trick, I know what will.”

Louis’ eyes gazed at the floor boards while Harry unfastened his jeans. He was too preoccupied with his shame and grief to realize that a finger perked his chin up. Louis’ vision, blurred by tears, was unable to detect the semi-erect penis aiming straight for his lips. He caught a fragment of a breath before Harry’s cock invaded his mouth.

Harry’s hand clawed around the top of Louis’ head as if to maintain his control over him. Louis could feel his cheeks producing a brighter color of red while he struggled to cough the penis out of him. His tongue tasted the disgusting flavor his captor had to offer. A few impalements had convinced Louis that it was time for him to take a drastic measure. At the next thrust, Louis bit down as hard as he could. His teeth managed to do their bidding to his captor’s erection, but instead of an assortment of screams, Louis was faced with a gasp.

“Oh! Honey, how did you know I like the pain?”

            The terrible truth revealed itself to Louis.

He could not win.

**.           .           .**

            His bottom half ached with every thrust. The man penetrating Louis’ backside was enjoying the ride while the receiver was having the complete opposite of a good time. Every now and again, a grunt or a wail would escape Louis’ lips. He didn’t know whether or not to be thankful for the fact that Harry did not gag him for this round. His kidnapper’s groin glided back and forth, one thrust deeper than the one before. He kept up a repeating rhythm as he fucked his slave. Fast, then slow, then fast again. Although Harry’s speed started to recede to a slower pace, Louis could tell that the charade was not quite over yet. Still, he permitted himself to speak.

            “Why?” Louis asked, out of breath for his chest was enveloped by the corset; “Why are you doing this to me?”

            “Why, darling,” Harry responded, a grin stretching across his face.

Bending at the waist, his palms clasped onto Louis’ aching sides. His chest met with Louis’ back, and his lips found their way to his ear. Harry whispered menacingly, making Louis cringe with fear.

“It’s only natural.”

            He rode faster.


	5. Five

            When Louis was a young lad, his mother had educated him with a variety of ways to cope during what was considered to be anxious or troubling moments. Whenever he was angry, he would recite the alphabet repeatedly to allow himself time to cool. When that didn’t work, he would count down from one hundred. If he was upset, he would try to count his blessings, or sing Nelly the Elephant to cheer himself up. To Louis, counting always seemed to be his best bet; but how could he count anything when the only thing he could keep track of was the number of days he found himself in captivity, being punished, or raped? This, without a doubt, was his biggest troubling moment he ever had to face in his life.

            The following days were hard for Louis, and repetitive. Harry would

            The method to his quandaries was quite simple, really. The answer was out of his control, unpredictable, and, above all, nonexistent. Louis felt like his own self was just as nonexistent as his way out of this Hell. For as long as his presence remained under Harry’s domain, Louis did not belong to himself. His first encounter with his kidnapper made it clear to Louis that his body was a product to be used over and over and over again. So, all Louis could possibly do was consent with the constant threat of chastisement breathing down his neck. Escape was not an option for him, and he realized that. His yearning for liberation was just as preposterous as the idea of escaping after one failed attempt.

            Louis found himself studying the wooden ceiling above him one night when he comprehended this. As he let his mind wander, he failed to grasp any sort of positive perspective on his situation. No doubt he was fired from his job from the amount of nights he had failed to show up for work due to his missing appearance. There was a high chance that his coworkers were unaware of the dangers that become of him. His friends and family, too, would be blind of the matter. From what Louis could tell, he would remain in the dungeon as a human tribute to John Willie until the day Harry would decide that he was done with him and his body. It was that day, Louis decided, that he would fear the most.

            After all, if the name he read in the runaway criminal section of the newspaper belonged to the same man that took him from his home and converted him into his personal sex slave, what else could he be capable of doing? Still, Louis knew nothing of the long-haired man that he was supposed to call ‘Sir’, except for the fact that he was a fugitive on the run that somehow gained access to a vehicle and a basement to lock him up in. Nevertheless, that wouldn’t suppress the fact that he was scared for his life every day he awoke. The more the days passed, the more he thought himself more as a sufferer instead of a survivor. And, as he concluded before, it was not his choice to decide.

            But this morning was different.

Harry did not stomp down the stairs and order for his pet to wake up and kneel before him. He did not thunder out commands to his slave for an enjoyable, nonconsensual time. He did not arrive with a daily newspaper that held the report of a missing person whom could not turn himself in. In fact, he did not show himself until the later hours of the afternoon. At this point, Louis was weak. His stomach ached for the small scratch of food his master allowed him to eat, even though he was subjected to the transition from his normal eating habits to eating like a bird at his captor’s discourse.

            Louis sat up in bed when he heard the footsteps trudging down the stairs. Harry barged through the door at a wind breaking speed. In his arms, he carried a bundle of clothes which he flung down to the ground. With a dominating finger pointing towards the pile, Harry commanded Louis.

            “Put on these clothes. Now.”

            Louis had learned not to question authority the hard way. He stumbled a bit as he started to dress himself. The shirt was too big for him. The pants were a bit too tight. His shoes would have been more comfortable if he had socks to go with them. Once Louis had finished, Harry grabbed at his wrists. With a stern look on his face, he retorted.

“We are leaving.”

            Louis couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Harry saw a frame of hope in his slave’s face, so he washed it right out of him.

“You so much as say one fucking word, I’ll make you regret it. Got it?”

Louis frowned, but murmured; “Yes, Sir.”   

            With that, Louis was yanked like a toddler being dragged across a parking lot by their mother. It dawned on him that, for whatever the reason, his chance of escaping was forming right in front of him. But he couldn’t suppress the fact that, if he wanted to return to his normal life again, he would have to get past the man that had taken it all away from him. Harry kept a tight hold onto Louis’ wrist as they shot up the stairs. During this time, Louis realized that his prison was actually not a dungeon at all. It was a townhouse.

            How clever it was for a criminal to hide in plain sight. To keep all of his cards close to his chest and to only make his presence known when no one was listening. Louis had no other choice but to keep up the pace as his captor led him to the once familiar vehicle that had been used for transporting his body from his home to this hellhole. He was surprised when Harry had him sit in the passenger’s seat. Harry was in such a hurry that he forgot to buckle his seatbelt. Louis was too fascinated to remember. The garage cranked open.

Harry warned again; “Not one word.”

Louis nodded, and Harry approved.  

            The drive was more of a quiet race than a casual ride. As he sped out of the complex, Harry couldn’t hide the anxiety on his face. From what Louis could tell, he was heading for the backroads. Something told him that Harry was accustomed to the hidden routes. Louis formed a hypothesis or two to explain his rapist’s nerves. Perhaps he had been spotted by police and he was fleeing before his arrest. Maybe he stole from a store and was trying to escape a pursuit. Either way, Louis could tell that something was up. He found himself to have a fantastic streak of luck when he saw flashing lights in the van’s side mirror.

Harry cussed under his breath as he pushed down on the accelerator. His high nerves must have made him forget that the speed limit was a measure that was meant to be followed. Louis’ adrenalin kicked up when he realized that Harry had forgotten another important factor of keeping somebody hostage. Harry failed to lock the doors. Louis figured that, with the police on their tail, rescuing himself was only a matter of finding a way out of the van.

To suffer, or survive.

He did not have time to think twice. Louis launched himself from his seat and jolted for the door. He braced himself as he shoved the door away and tucked out of the van. He could hear Harry swear as he sped away. Louis hit the ground with a hard tumble. Upon contact, a hot pain ran through the side of his elbow and thigh. The remains of a puddle sprayed behind the tires that ran past him and circulated through the air, making it difficult for Louis to see. He waited for quiet. The adrenaline that made him forget about his road rash subsided, and the result was the painful possibly of a broken bone. He picked himself up from the ground and looked around.

His kidnapper had vanished. The police car was gone. Louis, left in the middle of a road, found himself where cement filled the paths and abandoned brick homes stood tall around him. This neighborhood was as unfamiliar to Louis as the other side of the world. At this, he did not know what to do. And yet, he was happy to have been standing where he was. For the first time in a long time, he took a breath of fresh air. The brisk atmosphere of the seaside filled his nostrils pleasantly, but the nearby trash bins had to ruin the scent. The moldy aroma of the basement was behind him, but he was sure that the memory of it would follow him.

Louis walked along the street, opposite to the direction where Harry and the police car had gone. In the distance, he could see that the path would halt to a railing. Behind that railing rested a body of water. At this, Louis received a hint as to where he was. The river he had to drive over every day to get to work was not far away from his apartment. At this rate, Louis was only a few miles away from home. He figured that if he could gather up enough strength …

The thought immediately plundered when the sound of sirens returned. This time, it was coming from behind Louis. When he turned around, the first thing he spotted was the van. Harry went off course, or at least that’s what Louis imagined. He could have turned back to collect the witness that doubled as his victim. Louis panicked, found the nearest trashcan, and hid for his life. Louis’ heart raced as the van zoomed past him along with the police. This time, Louis was puzzled. Could Harry really be so blind? Or was he avoiding any means of stopping? Louis couldn’t help but wonder as he watched the back of the cop car distance itself from him.

Then something strange happened. Harry’s high speed was no match for the guard rail at the end of the alleyway. Louis watched the van make a sharp turn to avoid the river, but he was sadly mistaken. A hard screeching occurred, following a splash. The officer radioed in for backup. Over all the commotion, Louis could hear the scene of the accident unfolding right before him. Louis didn’t want to believe it was real. It couldn’t have ended this way. Not that easily. All he wanted, more than anything in the world, was to find a safe haven. Soon, the authorities responded to the call and found a reported stolen vehicle toppled over the edge along with a runaway criminal’s lifeless body floating downstream. Not far from that, a frail young man stumbled away cradling his arm singing Nelly the Elephant for the third time in a row.

**THE END.**


End file.
